


Le Vide

by iceandgreys



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Angst, F/M, Longing, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 15:03:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13056417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iceandgreys/pseuds/iceandgreys
Summary: A void that leaves nothing but his sight, a cruel loitering sight that fills the emptiness with his wonderings.





	Le Vide

#### JON

He imagines himself falling from the parapet of the Wall, in another lifetime, as he watches her swing around with abandon. His breath gets stuck in his throat, choking him from within, wildfire rousing him from some deep slumber, and razing his mind until there is only a void left. A void that leaves nothing but his sight, a cruel loitering sight that fills the emptiness with his wonderings. 

She appears poised and carefree, unminding of the delicate piece of silk trailing from her left clavicle, down her back trailing as dark tresses and winding in her silver baby bracelet. Her dress is charcoal ash, interwoven with silver samite threads, creating an allure of smoke and mystery. 

But it is her smile that really takes away his hearing. Pearly whites blinding, peeking down at Rickon who himself is engaged in unruly bodily movements; the wilding way of loosing free and dancing. They both would have to curb their instinct at the feast; with the entire North gathered and the Southron Lords of Riverlands and the Vale. Not to mention, Daenerys Targaryen, herself, along with her Lord Hand, Tyrion Lannister and the entire queensguard. 

Sansa is watching them fondly, leaning on Bran’s rolling chair and as for him, Jon feels like an utter voyeur staring at Arya. The child-woman whom many a lord would beggar themselves for. 

He does not know what happened after he left for the Wall, not like he knows Sansa’s journey of fear and manipulation, nor of Rickon’s, full of loss and nihility. He knows Bran went beyond the Wall, Sam had informed him. He returned to them _transformed_ , but he returned. They all returned back home. 

Jon does not understand how it happens. These small, subtle changes. How we becomes they? When did he stop thinking of himself as a Stark? When did they become strangers? 

_When did you become a stranger, little sister?_ Jon wants to ask her. But she is now anywhere but with him. He wants to know what happened to her playful wilfulness. When did she become so restrained and quiet? And who in the hells is that smiling stranger? 

Then her eyes meet his penetrating gaze, and her smile shrivels. It goes straight to his heart, and his scars burn, as though Maester Aemon has poured boiling wine over them. Behind him he hears the commotion and turns to see the Dragon Queen striding forward, her trusted queensguard, Jorah Mormont shooting him daggers while the Valyrian beauty gives him a demure smile, one fitting a queen. 

He glances back at Arya, who is now standing at the head of the entourage, clasping Rickon’s arm in hers, all suave and equanimous. He grimaces, his guilt resurfacing at the blasted kiss before offering his arm to the queen in attendance. 

* * *

He seeks out the legendary knight known as Barristan, the Bold, in service to House Targaryen. There were not many people alive who knew his mother, certainly a handful who would engage him. 

It does come as a surprise when he learnt his sire was the late Rhaegar Targaryen, the then Crown Prince, Daenerys’ brother. He is curious about the man. He knows the story of abduction and the subsequent rape but it’s his mother he longs to know. 

_Lyanna Stark._

He really does not care for Rhaegar Targaryen. 

Barristan Selmy is polishing his greatsword in the godswood. 

“Ser Barristan,” Jon greets, taking a seat on a moss carpet. 

Barristan does not seem surprised to see him at all. “Your Grace,” he offers and Jon has to fight back a twinge of revulsion and chagrin. 

It was not for Robb, but for Rhaegar that he called him as such. 

“I wondered if I could pick your memories.” 

“Certainly.” 

“There are not many people who saw her and know her, my mother. Could you recall anything of her?” 

Barristan lowers his eyes and resumes his hand at the whetstone. “I wouldn’t presume to know anything, Your Grace. I did not make personal acquaintance with your mother. I only remember seeing her at the Tourney at Harrenhal, freshly crowned by your father, the Prince, in blue winter roses. She danced with him that night, radiant and bright and the next day we left for King’s Landing and Lady Lyanna went back to being escorted by Robert.” 

Jon deflates. He did not want to know _that_. He had hoped for a personal effect but Barristan Selmy does not let him linger in his disappointment. “I do remember Rhaegar. He was-” 

Jon stops him before he can reveal anything that can change his opinion. 

“Your Grace, if I may? Lord Umber and I break our fasts often enough. He claims that Lady Arya looks like your mother come again. And I have to agree. It’s as if Ned Stark and his lady wife left not a single trace behind.” 

Jon wants to refute him. He does not, though. Arya, now a woman grown, looks nothing like her mother or father. He wonders if Daenerys sees her brother’s doom in her. 

But Arya is the little girl who followed him around and peppered him with kisses and ditched her lessons if he was feeling particularly melancholy. 

* * *

He sees that smiling stranger, Jaqen, lean down and brush his mouth against Arya’s. She does not push him away like he expects, but pulls him closer. 

He looks away, trying to quell the chasm of void in his chest, that hole where his little sister once was, his mind wandering back to the hot mess of berry lips and tangled limbs in his chambers upon his return. 

_I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you away._

**Author's Note:**

> Something about the festive mood makes me think of the possible tragedy that is Jon and Arya. I do recommend Medicine by Broods as a nice accompaniment.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k3ecsAd-NMY


End file.
